Dance Fire, Dance
by LaManzana
Summary: AU; Roxas is an untaimable American boy thrust into the world of the Carribean British colonies. Axel is a mysterious man who becomes Roxas's obsession. Will this give birth to a beautiful romance, or a tale of treachery? AkuRoku - other pairings.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters present in this story.

Balfour Town 1861

The sky was stagnant.

Up above, the clouds were pregnant with rain. Pressing down upon the Earth like a soggy, humid blanket, they threatened the land life with unfathomable amounts of water. The cargo ships in the harbor swished to and fro with the increasing wind. Seamen quickly tied down all of the uprooted cargo and sails before retiring themselves to the decks down below. The seemingly relentless gusts died down after their hellish exertions of power had been demonstrated. The storm would not break now, but the sudden stillness held promise. When the storm did break it would bring with it the relief of yet another band passing signaling that the threatening series of storms would soon come to an end.

Meanwhile, the town was also stagnant. The once crowded marketplace of Main Street had emptied in preparation for the on coming storm.

Standing in her kitchen overlooking the family cook stood Lady Larxene, her posture perfectly straight. The humidity did not seem to affect her in the slightest. Spewing orders, she stood back admiring her kitchen as she often did. The Lady took great pride in her Victorian style kitchen, and rightfully so. This area of the house appropriated solely for cooking looked as if it had been designed by the gods themselves. Had anyone told her this, Lady Larxene would have been ecstatic. She believed that the kitchen is of utmost importance and should be treated as if it were a room of worship.

The fruit that had been gathered early that morning had been rinsed and skillfully cut into delightful shapes and sizes. The Paopu fruit – one for each of them and none for Sir Cloud – were hastily in the process of enduring the removal of their terribly poisonous leaves. Removing the leaves incorrectly would result in the whole fruit falling apart from the inside out. However, ingestion of even the slightest portion of these leaves would indefinitely leave one bed ridden with a waste bucket nearby. The nausea and pain could last several weeks, even months. The fish were waiting their beheading and their meat soon after expertly cut into fillets. Hissing in a pan over the heat of the stove were various assortments of native and imported spices and herbs for flavoring the otherwise tasteless fish. This afternoon's assortments of spices were requested personally by Rikku, knowing that they were not to her mother's liking.

Fuu cooked silently, waiting for Lady Larxene to tire of hounding her and leave the much praised kitchen so that she could swipe food to replenish her almost empty larder. Thievery was greatly frowned upon in this society, that she knew, and she could be put to death if she were ever caught. While she had considered this many a time in her scandal, she had also considered that starving to death would be just as bad, if not worse. She is the one faced with the tedious task of carrying herself day after day to the bazaar just off of Main Street daily. Surely keeping a few of the purchased items for her would be justifiable.

"_Señora, señora!"_

Lady Larxene's heavy scrutinizing was halted as she heard the sudden scream beckoning to her from the outskirts of the garden. She jumped and nearly caused Fuu to lose hold of the fish she was currently beheading. Calming her face, Lady Larxene turned to face the servant running frantically in her direction.

"_Señora,_ come quick!" Still vociferating – such was her nature – the servant exploded in a wave of unsettlement through the open double doors of the kitchen, her eyes rolling frantically back and forth in her head. Fuu took advantage of the welcome distraction and shoved a few hot peppers that were lying openly on the granite counter top into the pockets suspended from her waist. "The American boy has fallen off of his horse…!" Falling into hysterics she burst into tears.

Lady Larxene reached out her hand to comfort the frazzled employee, only to be politely pushed away. "Dear God…" What had that child gotten into this time? Her mouth opened in horror as her mind went over all of the endless possibilities. What is he had horribly disfigured himself to the point of no return? How would she, how _could_ she, possibly face that boy's father again if that were to happen? Not that Lady Larxene wished to, but that was beside the point. Leaving the servant to wallow in her own pity, Lady Larxene instantaneously left the kitchen on her way to the outskirts of the garden to check on her most likely injured nephew. Her thoughts kept time with her feet. What if he had injured his neck, his back, or his head? Broken a bone? Received an abrasion of any kind? Fear gripped her as she rounded the last turn on her path. Her skirt trailed in the still fresh mud, her shoes squishing the mud pies on the lawn. Lady Larxene did not care. Her mind reeled, expecting the worst. She rounded a hedge – and froze.

Far from injury, Roxas was in the process of detangling his left leg from the bottom wrung of the fence he had hit. His right leg rested hopelessly in the mud. There was a dip in elevation where the fence dutifully stood. Partially filled with stagnant rainwater from the storm the night before, the depression upon Roxas's landing, had been disturbed sloshing water in every direction – most of which clung to Roxas's hair and clothing. Buffy, Roxax's buckskin mare stood on the other side of the fence idly munching on the grass that she found there. Her saddle hardly askew, reins flipped over her head, she continued eating as if nothing were wrong. And maybe in her world, nothing was. Roxas's brand new riding helmet (purchased and sent over by express from London not even a month before) sank deeper and deeper into the mud before resting a quarter of the way in the air in a rancid grave. The helmet held no promise of return. Worse still, Roxas rolled around in a vain attempt at leisure before pulling himself out of the fence and half way out of the mud. The stable boy grabbed Roxas's hands and pulled him fully out. Neither of them could control their laughter.

Lady Larxene's relief was short lived. She did not appear to find the situation comical in the slightest. Her lips pursed into a thin line of annoyance as she carefully made her way over to where the two boys were standing. Her skirt was no longer dragging in the mud. With added weight, it instead trudged. Although somewhat grateful for his help, she pushed the stable boy away. "Are you hurt, dear?"

"Only my pride." He grinned a slightly disappointed grin under the caking of dirt on his face. "I was so sure of that jump!"

Lady Larxene ignored the informal response. With their relation, she decided, a formal response was not entirely needed. Still, some more respect would be greatly appreciated. One could only expect so much after six short months unlike one would expect from a decently brought up English lad. "Can you walk?"

"I think so. I've not a bruise on me! How do you reckon that?" He rolled up his trouser legs to confirm his statement. "Nope, not a scratch!" He discarded his filthy overcoat and riding boots in lieu of walking barefoot. His aunt had always chided him about not wearing socks with his boots, but how could he? The boots were most uncomfortable by themselves. The addition of two inch thick socks would make his feet sweat uncontrollably, a fact that he loved to call to his aunt's attention, much to her disdain. "Hayner says that knowing _how_ to fall is the idea. He would know, eh?" He laughed and started to wring out his over coat.

Lady Larxene was not amused. In fact, she nearly grimaced at the sight of all of the filth dripping off of the misused over coat. Even more appalling was the sight of the young man's feet. From standing in the mud, Roxas's feet and ankles were now caked in the same mud that threatened to engulf the rest of him. Lady Larxene tried desperately to focus her attention elsewhere. Roxas's feet were as dark as the native stable boy's; a fact that obviously confused him as he stared openly at what should have been a milky white. In his confusion, the stable boy fell sideways into the depression that had previously been so carefully avoided.

Lady Larxene, having recovered from her shocked and appalled state, was quick to suggest. In her haste, she herself almost fell into the mud. "Roxas, clean up immediately! Go and have a servant fix you a warm bath. Sora will be with you as soon as…" she paused and held up her hand in a vain attempt at blocking the sun as she scanned the area for the clumsy stable boy. Her eyes locked on to him far away, already unsaddling Buffy. "…as soon as he is done with your mare."

"Mother, what's the problem…?" A disgruntled Rikku came rounding the same hedge that her mother had passed not ten minutes before. Following her was a colorful bird she had insisted she simply _had_ to have. Catching sight of Roxas she stopped, bird perching on her shoulder. As soon as her feet had stopped moving, she doubled over with laughter. Her hysterics, however, had not prevented her from speaking. "Roxas, good lord, what's happened to you? You and Buffy attempted the fence, didn't you? You did! Well aren't you a sight? My, oh _my!_" she doubled back over and continued with her hysterical laughter, hands gripping at her sides.

"That is enough, Rikku!" Her mother demanded. "I fail to see the hilarity in this unfortunate string of events! Now, show your cousin to his bath – lord knows he needs one – and have his soiled clothing sent straight to the wash house. I do not want to hear of this exhibition again, do both of you understand me?" Without looking to either of them for confirmation, she continued, "I will be with you both in a few minutes. It seems Sora is tied up." She looked around to the crowd that had gathered and without warning had begun to clap out orders. "You! Do not just laze around like a sloth! Go and ready a boil for his clothes. And the rest of you, back to your posts!

Lady Larxene wasted no more time with the situation at hand. Instead she rushed as quickly as her dirtied feet would carry her back to the kitchen. She had no doubt that Fuu had stuffed her pockets full of whatever would fit into them. Cloud would be infuriated. Fuu had a nasty habit of stealing the prized hot peppers that her husband loved dearly. She herself could not stand the intense flavor and spice that the peppers packed. Thankfully, Roxas had no been injured, therefore she was in no rush to attend to her nephew and daughter right yet.

~.~

"I thought it was understood, Roxas, that riding anywhere without an escort is forbidden? You know that horses are nearly impossible to ship out here. As such, we only have three in the stables. God forbid anything should happen."

Cleansed back into visual acceptance, Roxas rocked back and forth in an old handmade rocking chair in the largest sitting room of the house. His hair sparkled with the pristine care that the maids had shown him. His average height, this body once again covered in layers of unnecessary (what with this heat) clothing. This time, however, instead of donning the wretched olive green of his riding coat, he now wore tan, a more becoming color on him as Lady Larxene liked to point out. As per her orders, Roxas's mutilated riding clothes were sent straight to the wash house. Roxas's buried riding helmet had even been generously retrieved by the gardener during his shift, the dirt and grime having been cleaned off. Even with all of this done, Lady Larxene was far from done.

Roxas sighed, "I no longer require an escort, Aunt Larxene, I know this area quite well now. I do however appreciate your concern."

"That is not the point. You could have far worse of an accident somewhere off of the premises. And without an escort, what will you do?"

From the day bed where she reclined, thick book in her tiny hands, Rikku scoffed. "Daddy says that Roxas is one of the best horseback riders he has ever seen. And you know that that mean quite a bit coming from him! Roxas only fell off because he was not thinking correctly, if at all."

Her mother shot her a glace before looking back to an indifferent Roxas. "that is completely irrelevant dear. I know Roxas rides well, but no respectable English lad would even dare to think of putting himself in such danger."

"Well where he comes from, people look after themselves, quite right!" Rikku retorted fiercely. "Men of America do not hide behind their mother's skirts forever!"

Arguments such as this were common in the Strife household. Before the all too familiar argument could develop any further, Roxas interrupted. "I was only riding to the far end of the pasture and back, Aunt Larxene. I did not go far, nor did I intend to stay away long. My fall was merely a mishap."

"I do not question you intentions child," she paused and sighed. "Only your methods. What if something simply terrible had happened to you while you were down the pasture, out of any and all sight? In Salt Cay, venturing anywhere alone is dangerous; especially under this unforgiving sun. Being a white man, the natives stare quite impolitely." She spoke with more patience than she wanted to. She wondered how many times in her life time she would have to give this same spiel before her words finally sank into her nephew's thick skull.

Stopping his rocking, Roxas placed his ankles under the bottom wrung of the chair so as to still the chair. "These natives are far from impolite! Why, if one of them were to turn up in my hometown, I would stare at them much more than they stare at me now. In fact, the natives are delightful. Just the other day a kind elderly woman allowed me to watch her weave a basket out of palm fronds. Do you know how they do that, Aunt? Do you?" He met his aunt's eyes indifferently. "I do."

It was, in fact, Lady Larxene who had changed. Making baskets with the natives? My God, what would this boy do next? Letting herself simmer down, she moved to occupy the still chair next to her nephew, looking him straight in the eye.

"Your…unfortunate upbringing must make our way of life seem strange; I understand that. However, here in the colonies, we must remain strong and superior. Do you understand?"

Different people had been telling him different variations of this same topic since he had arrive, and to be frank, he was sick of it. His aunt's variation held no impact on Roxas's view. "Superiority is a relative term, that –"

"Theoretical truth is not always reality, my dear."

"Perhaps not, but my father had always said that –"

"Your father is not a realist." Lady Larxene's anger had started to flare up again. She now looked at her nephew as sternly as she could manage. "He is not a realist and he has never been here." She stopped and realised the current situation. When she was not tooth and nail with her daughter, she found herself dragged into incorrigible arguments such as this with her sister's son. Roxas loved to use knowledge and logic as a weapon; a trait thought upon greatly for a male. However, Lady Larxene detested when this weapon of the mind was used against her. "Anyway, returning to the point. Do not ride out without an escort. Take that klutz of a stable boy if you must." Lady Larxene saw that her point had been made and she quickly swept out of the room in a huff.

Rikku giggled. "We should no longer stand for mama's bulling!" Her blue eyes, akin to her mother's, showed no sign of jest.

Roxas sighed. "Aunt Larxene has her morals just as anyone else I suppose…"

"Yes, the very same morals that I have to endure for the rest of my life! You, dear Roxas, are lucky to escape with only a year!" She huffed and looked down disdainfully at the novel resting on her lap. "When I am eighteen I shall do as I please!"

"Nothing will change from the current…"

"You were always allowed to do as you please, Roxas!"

"Our situations are quite different, Rikku." Roxas said hastily. He admired his cousin's knack for being as uncontrollable as she was lovable, but he would not be to blame for his cousin's rebellion simply because of her misplaced admiration for him. In fact, he would not be to blame at all. "Now, did Uncle Cloud not say that your new bonnet will arrive here within the week?

"Oh! He did, he _did!_ I pray that nothing goes wrong. I would simply die if anything were to happen to my bonnet!" she scooped her book up into her arms. "Do you know what Yuna told Paine? She said that…"

Roxas closed his eyes and reclined, grateful that he was able to change the subject. The brand new bonnet was to be for Rikku's coming of age ball. The ball was to be held next month – the month that she would turn eighteen. Rikku was delighted and the whole house, even the hired help, had been feeding off of her energy for the past two weeks. As the frantic gossip spewed out of his cousin's mouth, Roxas stopped listening, inclining to only give his cousin the monosyllabic responses that she desired.

Roxas allowed himself to his own thoughts. He had only been in Balfour Town a meager one hundred and eighty days. Out of three hundred and sixty five! How would he endure? He missed his friends back home dearly. Hayner, Pence, Olette… oh how he wished that he had never honored his father's wished that he come to Salt Cay. He should have insisted on traveling with his father. Coming here was a mistake.

~.~

"Fish and Paopu? Delightful!" Rikku attacked her food with fervor. "Where is daddy? Still working perhaps? He is going to work himself to death!"

"Your father begs that we do not wait on him." She raised her fork. "He and Squall will eat later in the study." Lady Larxene motioned for Roxas to pass her the elegant dish containing the freshly picked fruit assortment. If there was one thing this island was good for, it was the massive fruit production. The tropical weather promoted year round growth. Rikku waited for her mother to finish with the fruit bowl before graciously helping herself to another heaping spoonful. Roxas often joked with her that her slim figure was going to become over laden with fat from all of the sugar that she heaved onto her fruit. To which she always replyed hotly, "No one becomes large off of fruit!" Roxas never continued from there. He saw no point in trying to convince his cousin that he had indeed meant that it would be the sugar that would make for obesity, not the fruit.

"We received a letter from Lady Yuna today. As an afterthought she had said that she would have someone deliver you a new dress for the Smith's _casa fiesta._ If you wish to still fit into them, I suggest that you practice a little more restraint at the table, Rikku."

"One will not become large off – Oh! The _casa fiesta!_ I had completely forgotten! Is it the blue dress? Oh I do hope otherwise!"

Her mother's fork clanked against her plate rudely as she set it down. Glancing up at her daughter she was furious. "Rikku! Do not talk that way! Lady Yuna has gone out of her way to – "

"Yes, dear cousin, blue is quite becoming on you," Roxas interrupted. He could feel yet another of his aunt and cousin's familiar arguments coming on. He wished to eat his lunch in peace, and by George, he would do so! "As I'm sure the…well kept…Capitan Auron has noticed."

Rikku blushed and nearly flung her handkerchief at her cousin in annoyance. "Well-! Maybe he has! What of it? It is you who has a love-struck Naminé Catalon pining after you! Right, right?"

"Miss Naminé is an attractive young woman. Your cousin himself is an eligible young bachelor. If he has attracted the adoring attention of Miss Naminé, then I see nothing wrong with that." She paused, turning her blue eyes to Roxas's own. "In fact, you will have an excellent chance to build up your impending relationship with Miss Naminé as you escort her to Lady Yuna's in a week." Roxas stared at his aunt with bewildered eyes. Surely he had been expecting a request for escort, but he had never imagined that his aunt would take it upon herself to accept the request for him.

Roxas held his words back, as any well brought up young man would. Lady Larxene noticed this and let a pleased smile play at her lips. Finally she was getting through to the boy. Roxas found Naminé's blatant infatuation with him both annoying and unpleasant, as did the acceptance of her unthinkable request. "Is there any way that I can escape attending this party?" He asked bluntly, causing Lady Larxene's pleasant smile to fall.

"No, there is not. And that is final."

Lady Larxene placed her fork back into her hand to continue eating. Simultaneously, Roxas put his utensil down and asked politely if he may be excused from the table. At his aunt's positive response, he calmly raised himself from his seat and walked out of the room, Rikku's eyes following him. She had been expecting this. She knew of her cousin's obvious distaste and disdain for Naminé. When Naminé was brought up in conversation, her cousin always looked for an escape. She was glad that he had found one this time, such is not always the case.

Roxas sighed as he sat down in a bench overlooking the Azaleas. They had always been his favorite. He concluded that the gardener was a miracle worker to get them to grow in this tropical salt mine. With one last glace at the beautiful flowers; he buried his face in his hands. He wanted to go home. Oh how he wished he could. The garden was his favorite place to be. The flowers, the wet Earth, the green off the leaves… Even what seemed to be a million miles away from home, these aspects would always be the same. _Home…my friends, how are you doing? Are you well? I miss you all dearly, but I will not cry._

~.~


End file.
